What's in a Word?
by xoxfiresignx
Summary: OSes, Drabbles, and other fic-type things set in the ATLA universe based on random words from an online generator.  Ships inside.  5. Resolving. 'He adjusted the uncomfortable suit and searched for her in the crowd.'  Next: Override
1. Assign

a.n.

For those of you who have been reading Drown and wonder when I'll get my act together and write chapter three, I promise I haven't given up. Another fandom (Ace Attorney) has been calling me (along with midterms and projects), so I haven't been able to focus the right sort of attention on Drown; it takes a LOT of focus to write. I have the chapter all planned out, I just need to write it. This story/series of stories is completely unrelated and is just a distraction and a way for me to keep my ATLA writing skills up to par.

There's a site somewhere that provides you with random words, phrases, sentences, and paragraphs (there are probably a lot of them, actually, but the one I use is linked to on my profile). For this series of fics/drabbles/whatever, I'll be taking whatever random word pops up and writing a story about it. I'll probably get one out a week; I'll try and update every Sunday night.

Pairings include, but aren't limited to: Zutara, Tokka, Haki, Maing, Kyto, and whatever crack I decide to throw in. I'll mix them around on occasion, but those are my main ships. These will not all be romantic stories! But . . . probably the majority will be.

Without further ado, here's the first instalment.

Also, I don't own ATLA.

* * *

**Random Word: Assign.**

"Okay!" Zuko called over the chatter of the group of people assembled before him. They all glanced up at him, the talking died down, and he felt a sudden wave of awkwardness as seven pairs of eyes latched onto his face. He cleared his throat, trying not to betray his discomfort. "Okay," he said again, more quietly now that he had their attention. "As you all know, we're gathered here today to plan an extra-special birthday party for Toph." He cringed. Had he honestly just said 'extra-special'?

"Which is why we're in a hammock ten feet above the ground, I'm assuming?" Suki asked, sinking deeper into the mesh and settling her head comfortably on the nearest pillow-like object - which happened to be Haru's leg, sending a violent blush all the way from his neck to the tip of his ears.

Zuko nodded. "We had to be somewhere where Toph wouldn't be able to hear us through vibrations. Sokka designed this place, and he and Aang built it for us."

"I even tied the knots!" Sokka proclaimed proudly. Suki's eyes went wide and she immediately sat up straight again, sitting as gingerly as she possibly could. Luckily, Sokka didn't notice this; his attention was fixed raptly on Katara, who had flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and was saying:

"Right now, Toph's getting an _extra-special_, intense pedicure." She glanced at Zuko as she spoke with a little twinkle in her eye, and he knew that she had picked up on his use of the hyphenated adjective and was making fun of him for it. He glared at her out of the corner of his eye and she stuck her tongue out at him before continuing. "She shouldn't be able to see anything for at least half and hour. But we figured we'd be careful."

"Good idea," Teo said, nervously. "But can we do this fast? If one of these knots break, I'm toast."

Several people mumbled in agreement, and Aang's hands tightened around his glider as he shifted slightly closer to the crippled boy, ready to be the hero if the net gave out.

"Alright." Zuko cleared his throat again. "The best thing to do would be to divide and conquer. Aang and Teo, you're in charge of balloons, fans, confetti cannons, anything involving machines and air." They nodded in unison, and Aang snapped his glider open. Teo grinned. "Haru, your job is to make that canyon we picked out as Toph-like as possible. Lots of rocks, boulders, multi-layered cliffs, whatever you think she'd like. Think back to Earth Rumble Eight, Ba Sing Se, all sorts of things. The Duke, you're helping Haru." The two boys slapped a cautious high-five over the rickety ropes. "Suki, you and Toph like all the same bands: you're on music." She saluted the young Fire Lord cheekily. "And Sokka, you're on gifts and guests: make sure only invitees are let in, and keep track of all the gifts and hide them until it's time." Sokka let out a whoop of joy and jumped to his feet. The hammock rocked dangerously and everyone cried out, grabbing onto the ropes for dear life. Zuko clapped his hands quickly. "Alright, everyone!" he shouted over the din. "Let's get to it!"

After all the others had extracted themselves (with some difficulty) from the net, Katara looked around and turned to Zuko. It was just the two of them left up there, and he was uncomfortably aware of how close they were.

"What am I supposed to do, Zuko?" Katara asked, tilting her head. Her hair brushed against his elbow and he felt a shiver trail up and down his spine. He hesitated a moment before answering, wondering if maybe he'd miscalculated.

"You . . ." His throat tightened and he coughed to clear it, feeling a blush rising on his cheeks. "You and I are going to bake the cake."

For a moment she stared at him, uncomprehending; then her face broke into the widest grin he'd ever seen on her.

"Thank you, Zuko!" she cried, throwing herself at him. They landed softly on the entwined ropes and she hugged him tightly. The blush was impossible to hide now, but he simply wrapped his arms around her and held her against him. They stayed like that for what seemed to be longer than was necessary (though Zuko wasn't complaining) before Katara pulled away and sat up.

"C'mon, Sparky," she teased, holding out a hand. "Let's get cooking!"

He took her hand and helped her out of the hammock, not bothering to suppress the self-satisfied smirk that he felt on his lips.

Who said he wasn't good at planning?

* * *

a.n.

Why is Zuko planning Toph's party? Why does it seem like there's a little bit of Teong going on?

I have no freaking clue. Just accept it and move on.

:)

NEXT WEEK'S RANDOM WORD:  
**Gang**


	2. Gang

a.n.

I know, I know - not only is this four days late, but I still haven't written chapter3 of Drown yet. But honestly, university is HARD! I just finished my midterms, I have several major essays to write, and I'm in the show choir so I don't get as much free time as I did when I first started writing ATLA fics. Can you please forgive me?

This isn't a romance!ship story in any way. The prompt was 'gang', and I wanted to do something different (because anyone else would have written about the GAang). So it ended up as a short-but-hopefully-sweet Bato/Hakoda friend!ship drabble. Actually, the more I think about it, the more I like 2nd-gen-Southern-Water-Tribe stories - the 1st-gen being Kanna, Hama, Pakku, etc. era, 3rd being the GAang - so expect several 2nd-gen stories (especially Kyto).

Enough preamble: here's number two.

And I will never own ATLA.

* * *

**Random Word: Gang.**

They weren't exactly a 'gang', but they were close.

They did everything together, referred to each other by personal nicknames, and were notorious in their village for causing trouble. People told stories of their escapades for years after the fact, either in reverential or critical tones (depending on the relative age of the speaker). Even later on in life, when their outlook became less mischievous and more subdued, people still told their stories. Their past kept hope alive for generations to come.

They weren't exactly a 'gang' - after all, how can a gang exist between two people in the freezing Southern Water Tribe? - but they were close.

They worked together like two parts of a whole. One would steer, one would navigate; one would distract, the other attack. A perfect pair in all aspects of the phrase. It started when they were children, rolling around in the blue-white snow, showing handfuls of the freezing stuff down the backs of the prettiest girls and grinning maniacally at each other as they ran for cover. It continued as they aged, as one of them married the prettiest girl and had children while the other stood on the sidelines as the best man, babysitter, godfather. It continued as they loaded their warships and sailed away toward the nation that stole the prettiest girl, that threatened everything in their small, frozen world.

They weren't exactly a 'gang' - not when they had to lead an army, not when they had to be serious and strong and respectable soldiers - but they were close.

They were connected on levels deeper than blood, deeper than friendship, deeper than life. They were bound by ice, snow, and memories of happier days. They were tied by laughter, pranks, love, culture, family. They were unbreakable. So even when the best man got hurt and the father had to leave him behind, they were unbroken, unyielding, their link spanning miles and months. They were impossible to shatter.

They weren't exactly a 'gang' - La knows that none of the negative connotations could possibly apply to them, not when they've sacrificed everything, not when they've risked everything, not when they've lost almost everything except each other and a few children who aren't really children anymore - but they were close.

* * *

a.n.

They're bros for life, yo.

:)

NEXT WEEK'S RANDOM WORD:  
**Wedding**


	3. Wedding

a.n.

Here it is; right on time! I actually wrote this on Thursday, immediately after posting Gang. I figured it would be a good idea to finish it early so that I could update on time.

I really like this one; it's VERY Tokka, and I think it's pretty darn in-character. Not much else to say, so I'll end the introduction.

Just a note: Drown won't be updated for a while; my grandmother passed away yesterday and I'm going home for the funeral. I'll be able to post this because I do it on Sundays, but Drown will be pushed back even more than before. Sorry.

As always, I don't own ATLA.

* * *

**Random Word: Wedding.**

She was used to him randomly spouting ridiculous ideas. He did it all the time - the best example of this being when they were flying on Appa to the Northern Water Tribe for some sort of reunion (she can't quite remember) and he broke their comfortable silence by saying: "We should start a band." What he had been thinking about to prompt this, she couldn't possibly imagine, but she had immediately reminded him that neither of them owned any instruments or musical ability, and the subject was dropped - and it was something she had come to expect from him along with everything else. "I'm hungry"; "It's a _warrior's wolf tail!"_; "Look at the picture I drew!"; "Boomerang!"; Insert random, unrelated idea here.

Yes, she was used to it; but that didn't stop her mouth from dropping to the floor and her entire body to go numb when he produced his most recent, most _ridiculous_ idea yet.

"_We should get married."_

She had frozen, up to the elbow in soapy water as she washed her clothes out (though she felt it cruel of Katara to force her to do her own laundry: she couldn't see the stains, after all).

"What did you just say?"

He pushed himself off the wall where he had been leaning, watching her - not helping, of course, because he was a _warrior_, and _warriors_ didn't do _laundry_ (his words) - and moved to her side, taking whatever garment she had been washing out of her hands and turning her toward him.

"Think about it, Toph," he said brightly, still in his ridiculous-idea voice. "We already do everything together. We go for walks, we go adventuring, we make and eat meals, we go out drinking, we do laundry -"

"_I_ do laundry," she interjected, trying to keep her heart beating at a normal pace. He waved her comment aside and continued.

"We fight together, makes jokes together, do wacky, zany things together . . . We've even slept in the same bed before." His voice was still cheerful, but she could feel his pulse drumming erratically in his chest as he gripped her wet, soapy hands in his. "We're pretty much a married couple already, so why don't we make it official?"

She felt the heat rising in her face and longed to pull her hands away, but she couldn't. Her limbs felt weak and shaky, as though she'd just done a six-hour workout.

"Generally," she began, her voice cracking. "Generally, people have to be in love before they get married. Or so I've heard, anyway." She tried to be casual, but her voice sounded more hopeful than anything. She cursed herself internally.

"And that's a problem _how_, exactly?"

Her eyes widened, even though she couldn't see. She slammed a foot against the ground and sensed the vibrations traveling over him. Just as she had suspected, there was a goofy grin on his face. She swallowed.

"I don't get it. What are you trying to say?"

She knew what he was trying to say, and he knew that she knew. But he said it anyway.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that you're the most important thing in my life. And that I can't even think about losing you without wanting to curl up in a ball and cry my eyes out." His voice didn't get serious, the goofy grin was still plastered on his face . . . he really, truly meant it. She knew it because he said it calmly, matter-of-factly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world (not that he was anyone to be lecturing about missing the obvious). "And could you imagine how hardcore our children would be?"

She almost hit him for that suggestion - but then her mind went into overdrive, imagining a group of earthbending, boomerang-throwing, meat-loving, hilarious-joke-making children with her intensity and his laugh. She felt the grin grow on her face and didn't bother trying to hide it.

She raised her eyes to his face (even though she couldn't see it) and suddenly realized just how close he was.

"Alright, Snoozles," she said, finally returning the grip he had on her hands and tugging him an infinitesimal amount closer. "When's the wedding?"

* * *

a.n.

I can just imagine Sokka suggesting it like it's no big deal; can't you?

:)

NEXT WEEK'S RANDOM WORD:  
**God**


	4. God

a.n.

I . . . don't quite understand this one. First off, if you're a very religious person, this MIGHT offend you; I'm not sure. I don't know why I've made Mai religious; I guess I just wanted her to really believe in something, to have a reason behind her boredom. And I don't quite get the Maing dynamic I've brought in here. Ah well, it's still a story and I still need to post it, so I suppose you'll all just have to deal.

Also, it's a strange foray into present tense; I'm sure I have a cornucopia of tense shifts in here but whatever.

I have no claim on the ownership of ATLA.

* * *

**Random Word: God.**

He had never come across the notion of 'God' until he met her. He knew about Spirits, of course; but they existed on the same level as humans and didn't usually involve themselves in petty human affairs. This 'God' she spoke of apparently lived in the sky, looking down on humanity benevolently from above, making sure they survived in happiness and prosperity.

In that respect, he thinks that this 'God' has done a rather poor job over the past 100 years. If he - or it, or whatever - is supposed to be some massive, omnipotent, immortal version of the Avatar, then he had willingly allowed genocide, torture, bloodshed, and war to plague the earth for over a century. It doesn't seem very benevolent to him.

"Why do you do that?" he asks, his eyes latched on her kneeling figure. She sighs, opens her eyes, and glares at him, her hands still clasped together in front of her.

"I've explained this to you before," she says, her voice bored. Then again, it always sounds like that. For someone who has taken part in one of the most well-known adventures in history, she sure doesn't appreciate her life. This, of course, he keeps in his head as he slides off the bed and moves to sit cross-legged in front of her.

"I know you have," he concedes, tilting his head towards her. "But it still doesn't make any sense."

She sighs again, the annoyance overly evident in the delicate lines of her face. He watches her as she unfolds her hands and curls her legs underneath her. A part of him feel guilty that he disturbed her; another part takes some sort of perverse pleasure in it.

"It's the same as your meditating," she huffs, undoing the buns in her hair so that it falls sleekly down her back, even longer than before. "When you meditate, you send energy out into the universe, hoping it'll guide you, right?" He nods. He's flattered that she remembers the exact wording he gave her, all those months ago when they first started spending time together. "I'm doing the same thing, except I'm sending my energy to a specific place."

"To 'God'." He can't keep the note of distain out of his voice.

"Yes," she snaps at him, her face hardening. "To God."

He knows he's offended her and rushes to repair it. He places a hand on her arm and is satisfied when she doesn't push it away. He looks into her eyes, gold meeting stormy grey, and he tries to tell her what he's feeling without words. It doesn't work, of course - either she's not as receptive to his eye-messages as Katara, or she's deliberately playing dumb.

"I'm sorry, Mai," he says, meaning it. "I don't mean to offend you, or hurt your feelings. I just really don't understand how you can still trust someone who let 100 years of brutal war just happen right under his nose."

She tilts her head at him, her eyes cold. "I trust you, don't I?"

He feels the sting of these words and pulls his hand away from her. She's right, of course: he, too, had deserted the world when it needed him most. He, too, was responsible for the genocide, torture, bloodshed, and war.

He has spent the past several years trying to forget this fact; always reassuring himself that by coming back and saving the day, he has negated all the damage he had done by disappearing. But he knows, as she does, that it isn't true. He can't bring Kya back. Or Lu Ten. Or the countless others who had been lost to those dear to him before his belated return.

"That's . . . that's different." He stutters over the words.

"How?" In this, as in so many other aspects of her life, she is unrelenting. "How is it different? You, like God, had a duty to the world. You, like God, are responsible for the war. For everyone who died."

"IT'S DIFFERENT!" Suddenly, he is on his feet. Suddenly, he is yelling. Suddenly, her eyes are wide with astonishment and fear as his eyes and tattoos begin to glow with that familiar, unearthly blue light. "IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! I NEVER MEANT TO LEAVE! IF YOUR GOD TRULY EXISTS, THEN HE PURPOSELY ABANDONED YOU! HE LEFT AND HE NEVER CAME BACK! YOU'RE WASTING YOUR TIME PRAYING TO HIM!" She has disappeared in the swirling miasma of his anger and self-loathing. The world before him is a blurry maelstrom of emotion, and yet faces continue to appear through the fog of the Avatar State: Kya, Lu Ten, Yue, Jet, other faces, other names, hundreds of people, thousands of people, people he couldn't save, people who died because _he_ failed them . . .

"Aang."

He hears his voice as though through water and feels the slight touch of her hand as though he were encased in stone. And yet her voice and her skin against his are the two tiny points of light in the darkness that pull him back into reality. He stares at her, feeling exhaustion and sorrow overcome him. Her eyes are sad and she pulls him against her, his head falling comfortably into the crook of her shoulder, the silk of her raven-black hair pressed against his cheek.

"It isn't your fault," she says, sliding a hand over the back of his smooth, bald head.

"Yes it is," he mumbles, holding back the tears that threaten to fall at any moment. "I left. I ran away. I was afraid."

She pulls away then, taking his face in her hands.

"You left because you were afraid," she says, the boredness in her voice entirely extinguished. "Maybe God left to teach us not to be."

* * *

a.n.

I do like the message at the end, though. Who knew Mai was so hopeful?

:)

NEXT WEEK'S RANDOM WORD:  
**Resolving**


	5. Resolving

a.n.

So, it's Sunday, and here is an update. Not much to say at the moment, to be honest.

This is a rather angsty Kyto story; poor Bato always got the short end of the stick, I think.

I don't own ATLA, but I do own all three seasons on DVD, if that counts.

* * *

**Random Word: Resolving.**

He was going to talk to her today. He grit his teeth, took a deep breath. Today was the day. He wouldn't throw snow at her today. He wouldn't pull her hair or call it 'poopy'. He would be nice and mature. He would show her that he was different, that he wasn't the average 6-year-old.

He opened his eyes and saw her. It was as if she were glowing in her parka with the snow around her. She was like an angel. He took a step forward, her name on his lips . . . Then she shrieked, spun around, and chased after the boy who had just shoved snow down her neck. Her name died on his tongue and he sighed, turning away. Not today.

He was going to talk to her today. His chest was puffed out in pride, the mark of the brave still staining the skin of his forehead. He wouldn't insult her clothes, he wouldn't brag (too much) about his ice-dodging. He would be interesting, intriguing, and funny. He would show her that he was different, that he wasn't the average 13-year-old.

He shoved his best friend playfully out of the way and saw her. Her eyes shone like polished sapphires in the caramel cream of her skin. Her lips were pursed in amusement at something one of her friends had just said. She was like a goddess. He took a step forward, her name on his lips . . . Then his best friend bounded over to her and wiped his mark of the wise all over her face. She shrieked and chased after him while her friends shouted encouragement after her. Her name died on his tongue and he sighed, glaring after them. Not today.

He was going to talk to her today. He felt the worn stone and soft ribbon in his hands and remembered how long it had taken to carve the pendant. He would give it to her today. He wouldn't laugh at her, he wouldn't pretend it was a joke. He would be honest, open, trustworthy, and loving. He would show her that he was different, that he wasn't the average 18-year-old.

He turned the corner and saw her. Her expression was one of utmost joy and she let out a delighted laugh. She jumped into his best friend's arms, crying "Yes, of course!" Her name died on his tongue and he sighed, dropping the engagement into the snow and stepping on it. Not today.

He was going to talk to her today. He adjusted the uncomfortable suit and searched for her in the crowd. He wouldn't get mad at her, he wouldn't yell at her for what she had done today. He would be supportive, caring, kind, loyal, and friendly. He would show her that he was different, that he wasn't the average 20-year-old.

The dancing couples separated and he saw her, standing in a group of her friends, laughing with them as they exclaimed over her hair, her dress, the ring, the service. He strode forward and touched her arm.

"Excuse me, but may I steal the bride for a moment?" The other young women giggled and dispersed. She turned to him, a wide smile on her beautiful lips.

"Bato," she said. He smiled back at her.

"Congratulations, Kya."

Her eyes twinkled and she pulled him into a hug. "Thank you. The service was beautiful, wasn't it?"

He held her tightly, knowing that at any moment she would slip away and he would lose her forever. "Beautiful," he agreed in her hair.

Then she pulled back from him and the moment was over, gone for the rest of eternity along with all the time he had tried to speak to her, but hadn't. She grinned broadly at him before rushing off to find her new husband, Bato's best friend, the man who had stolen the love of his life right from underneath his nose. Kya dragged Hakoda onto the dance floor and Bato watched them waltz, hopeless out of time as always.

Her named died on his tongue and he turned and walked off the dance floor, out of the community tent into the cold snow. He had always meant to speak to her, to tell her how he really felt, ever since he had been six years old and hopelessly in love with the prettiest girl in the village.

Not today.

* * *

a.n.

Goofy guys will usually get the girl.

:)

NEXT WEEK'S RANDOM WORD:  
**Override**


End file.
